


Romanian Rendezvous

by Dramione84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: At the end of the war Hermione had known two things:  she wanted to complete her education, and then she wanted to get the hell out of Wizarding Britain as fast as she could.  Passing her NEWTs with flying colours, she immediately signed up to the Ministry Exchange programme and a year in Romania.  She hadn't bargained on falling in love with Charlie Weasley.  What happens when it's time to go home?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleMulattoKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMulattoKitten/gifts).



> A/N: Written as a follow up to my previous Charmione Drabble, hitting the books and inspired by the ever talented littlemulattokitten's answers to my request for Charmione as the pair for her ship game on tumblr. Go check out her blog she is such a sweetie x Much love to my alpha readers and K_Lynne317 for beta-ing the story! Hope you all enjoy it!

**Romanian Rendezvous**

It was now six months into her exchange program and she and Charlie had fallen into a comfortable routine of research and learning with the sort of intimate brushes and touches that just came naturally to them.

Charlie slipped quietly into the library, a soft smile ghosting his lips as he watched her enraptured, as she worked. He loved to sneak up on her like this: so mesmerised by what she was learning, her chocolate eyes widening with wonder at the descriptions of the various different species of dragons.

He privately enjoyed it when she would bring a book to bed; the two of them curled up together in comfortable silence as she read. He would turn into her, and press a soft kiss to her forehead as she focused on the text and its illustrations, her lips curling into a smile at the action.

He felt the same feeling wrapping its wings around his heart as he watched her now, eyes narrowed now with concentration as she chewed her quill, still unaware he was watching her. Crossing the room, he raked his hands through her hair, tugging at the quill she had her messy bun held in place with, her curls cascading over her shoulders. He loved it when she wore her hair down and loose for him to wind around his finger, losing himself into it.

She sighed as he massaged her scalp lovingly, tugging her gently to tilt her head back slightly, his lips pressing to her forehead ever so softly.

"What was that for?" she smiled up at him.

Charlie hummed. "Oh, nothing. Just couldn't help myself," he told her, shrugging his shoulders.

oOoOoOoOo

"You look beautiful tonight, Hermione," Charlie told her, pressing a kiss to her temple as she accepted the glass of champagne he handed her.

Hermione blushed at his words as she sipped her drink. She hadn't wanted to come to the fundraiser, expecting Charlie to be working the crowds of rich Romanian witches and wizards who had more money than they knew what to do with and were therefore looking for a worthy cause to donate to. She expected to be bored and lonely with nobody to talk to.

Charlie however had been ever the gentleman, never leaving her side, insuring she was never left out of the conversation. She had surprised herself, being able to answer as many questions as he about their research. He in turn had been awestruck, listening to her as she animatedly explained in detail every aspect of their work and the avenues it could open up for further study. She came alive when she spoke about the things that she felt passionately about and he found his eyes drawn to the cupid's bow of her lips, watching them as they formed her words, and the way her eyes danced and sparkled with delight.

"You don't look half bad yourself," she quipped, reaching out to touch where he had rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms, having removed his dinner jacket earlier in the evening. As Charlie leaned in to whisper some words of tenderness in her ear, she caught sight of a familiar face just over his shoulder.

"Vicktor!" She cried, her smile increasing as she beamed at him.

Charlie turned slowly, as Hermione stepped away from him, throwing her arms around the man she had once dated.

His hard gaze fixed on the Quidditch star as he watched him take Hermione's hand in his, brushing her knuckles with a polite kiss. His eyes darted to Hermione, watching as she blushed shyly at the action, a vague feeling which he recognised as akin to envy clamping around his heart.

Remembering his manners, he stepped forward extending his hand formerly. "Krum," he greeted with no hint of malice in his voice.

"Weasley," Krum smiled, his tone cordial.

The two men stood, sizing the other up, their amiable air covering up the power play that was bubbling under the surface.

Charlie pushed his sleeves further up his arms, Hermione's eyes dropping to them, watching the way his magical tattoos spread their wings, glistening in the light; the way his veins became more prominent as he clenched his fists slightly.

"It's good to see you, Hermione, we should have a coffee and catch up sometime," Victor told her, smiling broadly, ignoring the way Charlie slid his hand around Hermione's waist possessively.

"That would be lovely," Hermione replied, stepping away from Charlie to press a chaste kiss to Victor's cheek before stepping back, checking Charlie's reaction out of the corner of her eye.

Charlie sipped his drink nonchalantly. He didn't need to make his point any clearer; his tattoos and scars told Krum all he needed to know: Look at these burn scars, deduce that I've tamed dragons, and keep eyeing my girl, fucker, it's your funeral and she'll help me hide the body. _Successfully_ , mind.

As if reading his mind, Hermione waited for Victor to return to the party before turning to Charlie. "You know he's married, right?"

Charlie shrugged. "Doesn't mean I don't need to make it clear who you belong to," he told her, watching as she blushed deeply.

"I think you marked your territory rather well last night, don't you?" she whispered, feeling the flames of her desire spark and ignite as she thought of the marks on her inner left thigh.

Charlie hummed his reply, his fingers worked magic up the prominence of her spine, exposed by her backless dress.

"Want to get out of here?" he whispered, his lips grazing her ear.

Hermione's voice caught in her throat as she nodded.

oOoOoOoOo

He loved that she had bonded so well with his group of friends, but she really did need to learn that she would never be able to keep up with their drinking. Realising early on in the evening that one of them would need to be sober enough to apparate them home, and that at the rate she was downing her shots, it was never going to be Hermione, he had switched to water allowing her this chance to let her hair down.

Watching as she tried to wipe away the tears that came from laughing so hard, he smiled, thinking he had never felt so in love as he was with her. There was only three months left of her exchange program and then what? She would return to her life in England with his family and what? Would she settle down with his brother and have Weasley babies that were not _his_ Weasley babies? He loved his brother but he loved this woman more. Could he watch her raise a family with his brother? These were all questions they ignored living in the here and now but the closer it got to her leaving the more these questions plagued him.

He laughed at the joke his best friend made, watching as Hermione caught up to it a second after everyone else, her eyes growing wide in shock. Another round of drinks was being poured and someone was suggesting jello shots. As Hermione started to suggest where to put them, Charlie rose, taking her by the hand.

"I think it's time to get you home," he chuckled as Hermione frowned.

"Why?" she pouted, as she scooched out from the booth they had occupied.

"Because I want to have my wicked way with you, you wicked, wicked witch," Charlie told her as he kissed her.

Outside the bar, she stumbled, suddenly feeling unsteady on her feet.

"Charlie, I think I've had too much to drink," she pouted, frowning as he rolled his eyes.

"Charlie!" she shrieked, as he lifted her up, dropping her over his shoulder.

"Charlie!" she shrieked again, laughing as he trudged through the snow towards the apparition point.

"As much as I love it when you scream my name, can you wait til we get home," he told her, swatting her backside playfully, causing her to moan.

oOoOoOoOo

She was sick. Not that she would admit it, but he could tell- and it was almost certainly because she wouldn't slow down or take a break. Rummaging around in the little kitchen next to the workroom of the dragon habitat they were working in currently, he found some tea and made her a cup.

Taking it through, he watched as she took a deep breath, clearly trying to suppress the urge to cough and he rolled his eyes.

"Honey, you're sick, you should be at home in bed."

"I'm fine," she replied, reaching into her pocket for a tissue to blow her nose.

"You are not fine, you are sick," he chastised, pushing the cup onto the table in front of her.

"I'm not sick, I'm fine," she insisted, sighing and trying not to yawn.

She did feel tired, but it was nothing. She took the teacup gratefully, bringing it to her lips, closing her eyes as she sipped the hot liquid, feeling it warm her.

She felt her fingers tremble slightly, knowing he was watching her intently, she focused on replacing the cup without a tremor betraying her.

Frowning as she looked over the pile of books, she realised the one she needed was still on the bookshelf in the corner. Slipping down from her stool, she made her way over to the bookcase, feeling his intense eyes on her as she reached up, her arms aching.

Her fingers gripped the heavy book, pulling it down and it was heavier than she remembered. Instantly Charlie was at her side, taking the book from her before she dropped it. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he cast a spell his mother had perfected throughout his childhood on him and his siblings whenever they were sick.

"For fuck's sake, Hermione," he muttered as the reading glowed. "You're temperature is 102 and you're so weak you're shaking. You are sick…"

"I'm not sick," she insisted, her hands on her hips.

"That might work on my brother and Harry, but you are talking to someone who has tamed dragons, Hermione," he admonished, an eyebrow raised at her. "If I can handle massive fiery dragons I can handle a tiny Gryffindor Princess," he told her taking her hand.

"I'm not tiny," she complained.

"Short then," he corrected.

"I'm hardly short, I'm 5'4"," she glared before he apparated them home.

"Shorter than me," he stated, giving her a pointed look before pointing to their bed.

Hermione looked like she was about to refuse, so he took her hand again, pulling her over to it, lifting the covers. "Hermione, love, you have a temperature of 102 and you are shaking, lay the fuck down," he instructed, staring her down until she complied.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this," she conceded.

"Noted," he replied, before pressing a kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes.

Stepping away, he apparated back to work knowing she was asleep before he even left her side.

oOoOoOoOo

He had persuaded her to let him take her away for the weekend, knowing it would be their last opportunity to spend some time together before her exchange was up. That was how they came to be lying on a beach on the Greek island of Kos.

Seeing her in her bathing suit when she had come out of the bathroom that morning he had swallowed hard, arousal building inside of him as she crossed the room, oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

The beach had been sparsely populated when they arrived and so he had relaxed slightly, lying back to soak up the sun with her. Now she was tugging at his hand demanding that they go for a swim.

He eyed the stretch of beach suspiciously, as she dragged him down to the water's edge like an excited child.

"What's with you?" she asked, splashing water at him playfully.

"Hermione, love, I'm fine with everything you're _not_ wearing right now and Godric Bless muggles for that swimsuit but I can't drown every male on this beach, honey, you're killing me here," he told her as he kissed her, grabbing her backside as she wrapped her legs around him.

"Relax, I'm with you silly," she told him kissing him back just as soundly.

oOoOoOoOo

Sat on the sofa, stressing about merlin knew what, she was working herself up into a frenzy as he took off his backpack and removed his boots. Jumping onto the sofa behind her, his big arms wrapped around her and she felt herself melt into him as he dropped kisses to her neck.

"I need to finish this," she half heartedly moaned as he nuzzled her neck.

"No, you need to relax," he told her, massaging her shoulders as she sighed. "I've never known anyone get as tense as you. Honestly," he told her as his hands worked down her back. "How can someone as short as you hold so much tension?"

Hermione playfully smacked him. "Don't keep calling me short!"

Charlie chuckled, "God damn, where does it go? Thighs? Ass? I mean that's perfectly acceptable but that doesn't make it healthy," he chastised as her playfully grappled with her, kneading her muscles, his hands grabbing at her flesh as she lay back, wrapping one leg around his neck and pulling him down.

"Ah, yes, well that is one way to work out the tension," he agreed, dropping his lips to her mound as his teeth found the fabric of her yoga pants, tugging them suggestively, one eyebrow raised.

Hermione arched her back, moaning as his fingers found her waist band.

"Fuck," she whispered.

"I quite agree," he replied, his voice hoarse.

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione shook her head nervously, taking a step back.

"Trust me," Charlie told her, taking her hand.

"I don't like flying; you know that," she replied, eyes wide with fear.

"Trust me," he told her firmly, pressing a kiss to her lips, before pulling her towards the Romanian Longhorn who lowered his snout towards her submissively.

Slowly Hermione held out her hand, feeling the ridges of the Longhorn's dark green scales as the dragon nuzzled.

"Trust me," Charlie told her, climbing up and holding out his hand once more.

Tentatively, Hermione took it, allowing him to pull her up, feeling buoyed by the feeling of her arms wrapping around him tightly.

Her hands clasped tighter, gripping his jacket until her knuckles turned white as the dragon beat his wings fiercely, taking off.

Soon they were soaring high in the night sky, and Hermione felt the rush of something flow through her veins that she did not recognise. The last time she had flown on a dragon it was out of necessity, her life literally depending on it. With no such need, she had the freedom to enjoy this moment of being so utterly free.

They circled the peaks of the Carpathian Mountains, before coming to land on an outcrop of snow covered rock, the dragon bending to allow them down gently. Hermione shivered as Charlie ducked into a little cave, pulling together some sticks that had been left here by a previous dragon who had used the cave to nest. The dragon, which Charlie had named Henri much to Hermione's bemusement, breathed fire, igniting the sticks.

Pulling a blanket from his jacket, he opened it out and beckoned for Hermione to join him on it. She watched, awestruck as he pulled a bottle of elf wine and two glasses from his jacket, pouring her a glass. Beside them, Henri settled down to take a nap, as Charlie and Hermione took in the view, the clear night sky twinkling, every star visible.

"Stay with me, Hermione," Charlie whispered, taking her fingers in his and pressing a kiss to the tips.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "No, don't say it. Don't tell me you are ready to go home to England," he pleaded, "I know we said this was just for now but I want more. I don't want you to go.."

Hermione touched her free hand to his lips, silencing him. "I don't want to go either, I want to stay," she told him before replacing her fingers with her lips, kissing him soundly.

oOoOoOoOo

Her internship was up but she hadn't returned to England, instead choosing to remain with Charlie, waiting for a permanent position to open up either at the sanctuary with him or in the Romanian Ministry Department of Magical Creatures.

Determined to earn her position, they had settled into a routine of her studying while he was at work and then spending their evenings discussing everything from Romanian politics to where his research could be taken next, wrapped in each other's arms.

Equally determined to earn her keep, Hermione had taken to cooking for Charlie, knowing he would get so wrapped up in his work that he often forgot to eat. That's how she found herself standing over a stove of his favourite stew, having obtained the recipe from Molly, ladling it into a thermos.

Apparating to the sanctuary, she watched him in the enclosure from the workroom window, mesmerised by the intensity of Charlie working. She found him incredibly sexy, watching his muscles flex, the ridges rippling as he worked with the dragon. It was like watching a maestro. Not that she would ever confess how much she enjoyed watching him unseen, lest she inflate his ego.

oOoOoOoOo

"What do you want to do about Christmas?" she asked suddenly, as though she had been thinking about it for sometime and the words had overwhelmed her, spilling out, shocking her as much as they shocked him.

"Whatever you want," he shrugged, returning his attention to the book he was reading.

"I was thinking about going to Sydney, and I had assumed you would want to go to 'The Burrow', she murmured.

Charlie chuckled, turning over the page he was reading.

Hermione frowned. "What?"

"Do you not know me but at all?" he asked, raising one eyebrow at her mockingly.

Hermione's frowned deepened as she waited for him to elaborate.

Dropping the book on his chest, he smiled across at her. "I love my family, but in case you hadn't noticed, they are somewhat overbearing, and if you have noticed, Bill and I have learnt to detach ourselves more than the others. Do you think I would have been able to enjoy Romania as much as I have if I was homesick all the time?"

Hermione chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "I guess not," she replied. "So would you like to come to Sydney then?" she asked nervously, her voice small.

Charlie pulled her into him, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I can think of nothing I'd like more," he murmured.

oOoOoOoOo

Charlie growled, holding her wrists above her head as he brought his lips crashing down on hers in a searing, bruising kiss as she writhed deliciously underneath him. Holding her wrists in place with one hand, he brought the other to her left leg, running it up as he opened her up to him, listening to her keening cries as he brushed his thumb over her clit, teasingly.

"I'm going to tame you, Princess. I'm going to douse that fire in you until you are melting in my hands," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust.

Wrapping her leg around his waist, she rolled him onto his back, biting down hard on his shoulder as she overpowered him, using her wand to tie his hands to the bed above his head.

Licking down the ridges of the scars that he had covered with magical tattoos, she listened to him hiss underneath her. She bent her head to his ear, her tongue darting out to lick the shell as she whispered, "Who's the dragon tamer now?" and suddenly she was gone, sitting in the chair opposite the bed, Charlie turning his head, his eyes almost rolling back into his head as she spread her legs wantonly, her hand dipping between her glistening folds.

"I'm going to make you watch me make myself come and there is nothing you can do about it," she smirked seductively.

oOoOoOoOo

"What's this?" she asked, pointing to the costumes on the back of the sofa.

"Costumes," he shrugged. "Christmas party is tomorrow night," he explained, not looking up from his book.

"I see… these are couples costumes," she stated, running her hand over the silk of the dress. "Krum is going because he's a benefactor, so am I to assume that this is your passive-aggressive way of stating we are a couple so hands off?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow at him questioning.

Charlie continued to read his book, a look of innocence on his face. "Might be," he supplied.

Hermione smirked, looking at the semi-risque garment. "Little red riding hood and the wolf," she stated, looking up at him once more.

Charlie shrugged.

Hermione hummed, rolling her eyes. "Okay, but only because you didn't demand it," she smiled.

Charlie continued to read his book, struggling to maintain his composure and not demonstrate the mini fist pump moment he was having in his head.

"Try it on," he suggested, turning his page innocently.

Hermione used her wand to change her clothes, Charlie looking over the top of his book, his jaw dropping.

"My, what big teeth you have," Hermione cooed, batting her eyelashes.

"All the better to eat you with," Charlie winked.

oOoOoOoOo

Charlie Weasley was drunk. Charles Fabian Weasley was drunk and dancing. Embarrassingly so. And Hermione could only blame his friends, who were all in a similar state of inebriation. It had started off funny, but had surpassed into the realms of embarrassing once they and decided to serenade her while dancing in a group around her, leaving her no means of escape. And now, now Charles Fabian Weasley, was howling. Howling for her- and she was blushing a deeper shade of red than her dress.

oOoOoOoOo

"I hardly think Titanic counts as a Christmas film," Charlie frowned as she popped the DVD in the player.

"It's tradition," she shrugged, coming to settle with him on the sofa.

"Tradition," he echoed, frowning. "Tradition to reduce oneself to a blubbering mess in the spirit of the holiday?" he asked, his tone slightly mocking. He was familiar with the storyline having dated a couple of muggle girls in his youth. It seemed to be a common theme- girls liked to cry over the fate of a tragic hero.

"Shut up," she told him, sticking her tongue out at him. "I always watch this on Christmas Eve while my parents finish their shopping."

"I see," he replied, pulling the blanket on the back of the sofa down on them as she snuggled into him. "How long have I got til they return?" he whispered suggestively.

"They will be back before the end," she told him, swatting his hand away from her breast playfully the first time it settled there, making no move to swat him when it settled their a second time.

"I'm still not sure what is traditional about this," he whispered, pulling her closer as she cried openly as the female lead promised her beau to never let go, promptly doing so much to Charlie's confusion.

"Shush," she replied, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand.

oOoOoOoOo

"What's this?" Hermione whispered, as Charlie held out the little velvet bag for her to take.

"Open it and find out," he quipped, a broad grin on his face.

Tentatively, she reached for it, her fingers curling around the small rope that held it closed. Opening it up, she peered inside, before tipping the contents into her cupped hand.

She gasped loudly, her eyes snapping up to meet his. "Charlie," she whispered, her eyes dropping back to the dragonfire gems.

"You broke the rule," she admonished, struck by the beauty of the stones as they caught the lights of the Christmas tree.

"What rule?" her father asked, frowning.

"We agreed to a £50 limit," she explained, "these are worth far more than £50."

Charlie shook his head. "No, we agreed neither would spend more than £50. Technically, I didn't spend anything," he insisted, feeling rather smug.

"You can't get out of this on a technicality," Hermione smirked, as Charlie leaned in to kiss her.

"Yes I can," he winked, before capturing her lips with his own.

oOoOoOoOo

"That smells delicious," Charlie murmured into the skin of her shoulder as he nuzzled at her neck while she cooked his breakfast.

Hermione smiled, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her, and his soft lips on her shoulder.

"I wish I had time to eat it," Charlie sighed, pulling away.

"Sit," Hermione commanded, eerily reminiscent of his mother.

"Hermione, I need to get to work," Charlie sighed, pulling on his jacket.

"Yes, your Horntail is about to give birth any day, I know. But you need to eat, so sit," she told him, one hand on her hip, the other brandishing a spatula dangerously.

"Fine," he relented, sitting down at the table as Hermione plated up his breakfast.

"There's a good boy," she told him ruffling his hair, teasingly, knowing she had just scared him into submission by channeling Molly.

"Don't," he huffed, pulling away, before grabbing her wrist and pulling her down into his lap. "But if I am eating, so are you," he told her, raising his fork to her mouth, groaning as she wrapped her lips around the bacon, a seductive look in her eyes.

"You're going to make me _very_ late today," he told her, kissing her.

oOoOoOoOo

Eyes fluttering open as he pressed open mouthed kisses to her shoulder and neck, she smiled, squeezing the arm that was draped over her, feeling him tug her closer to him.

"Happy anniversary," she murmured, as he turned her onto her back.

"Happy anniversary," he told her, kissing her deeply, his tongue caressing hers as he reached under the pillow, pulling out an envelope.

"What's this?" she frowned, as she opened it, reading the contents. "The opera. In Venice!" She cried, sitting up in bed, the sheets dropping, exposing her breasts as she wrapped her arms around him. He lay her back on the pillows, kissing down her torso until he captured one of her nipples with his mouth, listening to her hiss as he grazed it with his teeth.

"And reservations; hotel and dinner," he told her, between kisses down her abdomen.

"Sex in Venice," she sighed, "Sounds magical."

"I'll show you magic," he murmured, "right here in Romania."

She arched her back as he flooded the fire in her with his mouth.

oOoOoOoOo

"So…I was thinking," Charlie began, watching Hermione carefully over the top of his book.

"Yeah?" Hermione casually replied, chewing on the end of her quill, ink staining her fingers.

"I mean, I can handle dragons," he continued, turning his page, not sure he had taken in the last paragraph. "And you; you're basically a short dragon."

Hermione turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying," he shrugged, "I think kids won't be half as bad as a dragon, right?"

Hermione frowned, repeating his words to herself, trying to figure out what he was saying.

Charlie waited nervously for her response, staring at the page, unreading. She repeated the words to herself once more, still unsure what he was getting at.

Charlie sighed, dropping the book as he twisted around, sitting up.

"I thought you were supposed to be 'The Brightest Witch of Our Age,' he mocked, giving her a pointed look.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know I hate that title," she huffed as he took her hands in his, dropping her quill on the page.

"Yes, well, clearly it's not true if you cannot understand what I am asking here," he continued mocking her as she pouted.

"I always figured you would have Weasley babies, so how do you feel about having my Weasley babies?" he asked, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Because I really want Granger babies, who I am sure would be easier to tame than their fiery mother," he smiled.

Shocked, it was all Hermione could do to nod her head. She had left England only knowing that she needed to find something. As she looked into Charlie's eyes, she knew what everything she ever needed was right here in front of her. After running for so long, she was home.


End file.
